Kerr Goes Kiwi

Miranda Kerr was 18, just out of high school, a girl from the Australian countryside curious about what the rest of the world had to offer, when she first visited New Zealand. Along with a close friend from Gunnedah, the pastoral town where she grew up, Kerr set out to experience what for many is the draw of New Zealand: to escape and explore, to get a little lost and, in the process, get a little found. They slept in a tent. Swam in natural hot springs. Hiked terrain so raw and depopulated and expansive it felt as if they were the first humans to discover it. Kerr didn’t know it at the time, but her life would change significantly in the years that followed, thanks largely to her enviable genetic gifts: the long pale legs, the shimmering doe eyes and, most famously, the pert, dimpled cheeks that have made her one of the highest paid, most recognizable models in the world. Modeling, for Kerr, has been its own sort of adventure, one she will be the first to acknowledge as a stroke of good fortune not to be taken for granted. “Still, that backpacking trip, just having that freedom, was one of the best times in my life,” Kerr recently reflected. “Ever since, I’ve wanted to get back to New Zealand.”

For seven months, beginning last December, Kerr, 29, got her wish. She spent the majority of her nonworking time in Wellington, New Zealand’s capital, where her husband, Orlando Bloom, was filming “The Hobbit,” Peter Jackson’s two-part prequel to the epic “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy, the films that first made Bloom a star a decade ago. Wellington — or “Wellywood,” as it’s been christened since Jackson set up his studio empire in the suburb of Miramar — is one of the most remote capitals on the planet: some 28 hours by plane from London, 23 from New York, 15 from Los Angeles, 14 hours from Hong Kong and Tokyo. Of the city’s many charms — its burgeoning restaurant scene, its absurdly picturesque scenery, the mellow Kiwi hospitality you experience everywhere you go — it is Wellington’s physical isolation that makes it such a singular place. During the week I spent in the city, no matter what I was doing, even something as simple as sitting at a cafe sipping a flat white (New Zealand’s richer version of a latte), I felt a palpable remove from the ways and rhythms of the rest of the world. (Being on the other side of the international date line helps.) So while much of Wellington could be compared to, say, Portland, Ore., or Seattle, there is the added seduction of being pleasantly unmoored, able to take in the pleasure of civilization while existing outside of it.

The circumstances of Kerr’s stay in Wellington were, of course, quite different from her initial visit. She is now the mother of a cherubic young son, Flynn, 19 months, and the tent of her teen years was replaced by an airy, seaside mansion where every window looks out on Wellington Harbour. (The house, lent to the couple by one of the film’s producers, happens to be where Bloom celebrated his 22nd birthday while filming “TLOTR.”) If she wanted to run an errand, or head to an afternoon Pilates class, a production assistant gave her a ride. Sweet perks, no question. And yet, to hear Kerr tell it, the life she and Bloom carved out in Wellington was in many ways a reminder of what existence was like before she became a celebrity, a kind of geographic escape hatch from the scrutiny of tabloids and the curious eyes of strangers. When they first arrived, for instance, they took a road trip that was reminiscent of her earlier journey: aimlessly driving around the countryside, out of reach and out of touch. “We didn’t camp because Flynn’s still a little young for that,” Kerr told me. “But it was just the three of us, nothing to do except be with each other in this shockingly beautiful place.”

Kerr and I were having this conversation at Wellington’s Botanic Garden, a sprawling expanse of lush floral curiosities, manicured lawns and shaded labyrinthine walkways offering some of the most extraordinary views of the city. It was hard to imagine that this was the same woman who, a few months earlier, had walked the runway in a $2.5 million bra while Maroon 5 performed at the Victoria’s Secret fashion show; here, in raw-denim jeans and a loose navy sweater, she seemed no different from the other health-conscious young mothers who made up most of the gardens’ visitors. Kerr had come from the set of “The Hobbit,” which she visited most days with Flynn when Bloom, who was reprising his role as the bow-wielding elf Legolas, was working. “There’s a cafeteria where everyone eats lunch, and they’re all in full makeup,” Kerr said. “So you see these poor Orcs” — the demonic goblin soldiers of the film — “trying to eat without ruining their costumes. For Orlando, it’s easier. He just has the blond wig and the pointy ears.”

We were sitting in a small meadow where a contingent of the sort of young, arty types who seem to make up two-thirds of Wellington’s population were setting up for an outdoor production of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night.” Flynn was with us, chasing birds and, at one point, attempting to join a group of teenage boys at soccer practice. “Like this, what we’re doing right now, just sitting in a park, out in public, I can’t do this anywhere else,” Kerr continued. “In Los Angeles, there are people camped out in our driveway every day, waiting to follow us wherever we go.”

Kerr, who is gracious and easygoing with a hidden sarcastic streak (her personality is an extension of her slyly wholesome look), didn’t sound annoyed; it was simply a fact of her life, albeit one that’s nice to be able to put on hold once in a while. Earlier in the week, she and Bloom had spent two days wandering the city for the photos in these pages, heading to some of their favorite places in town: the Maranui Cafe, a lax, bohemian restaurant in a historic lifeguarding school; Red Rocks Scientific Reserve, a desolate stretch of beach peppered with iron-hued volcanic rocks; and the Hill Street Farmers’ Market, a Saturday morning institution. I joined them for much of the shoot and was surprised to see that no one paid them much attention — and not in that New York or Los Angeles way of pretending not to recognize a celebrity. “People here are just really real,” Bloom remarked during a break from the shoot, over lunch at the bistro Floriditas, a regular stop for the two. “They don’t care about the same things that everyone else does.”

But because Kerr and Bloom are required to appear in public so often, they spent most of their time in Wellington at home, away from the demands of the world. A typical morning: Bloom would cook breakfast and brew a pot of tea while Kerr fed Flynn. A typical evening: Kerr, the more ambitious chef of the two, would make dinner — grilled salmon and roasted chicken are favorites. After that she’d put her iPod on shuffle and turn up the volume, signaling the start of an impromptu family dance party — Kerr, Bloom and Flynn getting down to everything from Dr. Dre to Mozart. An exception to this rule was made at the Botanic Garden, when Bloom rang Kerr on her cellphone and, on a whim, she suggested that he meet her at the park so they could catch the Shakespeare performance. A great idea, Bloom agreed, though he did have one caveat that reminded me of how protective they were of their privacy in Wellington: he made sure that I not join them. “I’m sorry, but he’s kind of the gatekeeper,” Kerr said. “He has to be, as a husband and a father.” Fair enough: If I were in his shoes, I would have asked me to leave, too. As I left, I imagined the three of them at the show, in the middle of a crowd and yet totally invisible.

Later in the week I met up with Kerr at a cafe called Scorch-O-Rama (that it overlooks Scorching Bay doesn’t quite make the name forgivable). A mellow little spot, it’s just a few hundred yards from their house and had become a mainstay for the couple. Over something called “gunpowder” green tea, I asked her to describe a moment that epitomized what she loves about Wellington. Her face puckered up in thought. I had had a few of my own adventures since first meeting her, including an unexpected late night with strangers (who quickly felt like friends) at a cocktail lounge called Havana Bar near Cuba Street, Wellington’s answer to Brooklyn’s Bedford Avenue. Such moments seem particularly easy to come by in the city, and I figured Kerr, her homebody proclivities aside, might have a few to share. But after a moment, she simply pointed to a small sliver of beach across the street. “That beach right there? I take Flynn there a lot, just to play in the sand,” she said. “And I was there with him a few days ago, right after coming back from a job in Tokyo. He was covered in sand, I was covered in sand, but it didn’t matter.” As they began to head back to the house, Bloom showed up on his mountain bike, which he often rode to the set of “The Hobbit.” “Orlando started showing Flynn some tricks on his bike, and Flynn kept shouting, ‘More! More!’ ” Kerr paused for a moment. She is a woman who gets genuinely misty when discussing the joys of family. “It sounds so simple, I know,” she said, “but that’s kind of what it’s all about here. Just those small moments that you can’t have anywhere else.”

TRAVEL ESSENTIALS: WELLINGTON, NEW ZEALAND

HotelsOhtel An intimate and superbly designed 10-room boutique hotel a few steps from Oriental Bay. 66 Oriental Parade; 011-64-4-803-0600; doubles from about $157.Bolton Hotel One of the city’s tallest hotels, where many of the modernist rooms offer stunning views. 12 Bolton Street; 011-64-4-472-9966; doubles from $148.

Restaurants and CafesHavana Bar Housed in two wooden cottages incongruously wedged in the middle of downtown, this restaurant serves inventive takes on Cuban classics and has a rollicking nightly bar scene. 32a-34 Wigan Street, Te Aro; 011-64-4-384-7039.Foxglove Wellington’s answer to a sleek Los Angeles restaurant, with an upper balcony that overlooks the harbor. 33 Queens Wharf; 011-64-4-460-9410.Ortega Fish Shack and Bar Mellow in spirit, inventive in cuisine; a solid addition to the restaurant scene. 16 Majoribanks Street; 011-64-4-382-9559.Drift Café Fresh seafood served on the dunes of Waikanae Beach, about an hour outside the city by car. 1 Waimea Road, Waikanae Beach; 011-64-4-902-9033.Maranui Café Organic fare served to a mix of hipsters and families in a building that once housed a lifeguard school. Lyall Parade, Lyall Bay; 011-04-387-2829.Florditas This classic, laid-back bistro is an ideal spot for people watching on Cuba Street. 161 Cuba Street; 011-64-4-381-2212.

ActivitiesCharles Plimmer Park Take a hike to the city’s largest park and within minutes you’ll feel as if you’re exited civilization and entered the land of hobbits.Boomrock This stunning 3,000-acre farm half an hour outside the city offers everything from BMW racing to shooting clay pigeons to food and wine pairings. 011-64-4-478-9597.Hill Street Farmer’s Market The best place to experience and sample the city’s locavore culture. Wellington Cathedral Carpark; Saturdays, 8:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m.

Correction: August 23, 2012

A hotel listed in the sidebar of the article was misspelled in an earlier version of this article. It is the Bolton Hotel, not the Bolten Hotel.

A version of this article appears in print on August 19, 2012, on page M2212 of T Magazine with the headline: Kerr Goes Kiwi. Today's Paper|Subscribe